Leg Porn
by Volitan
Summary: A charity ball, a gap in the penthouse suite curtains and a photographer in the 'right place' at the 'right time' brings Pepper and Tony's romantic relationship into the public eye.  Multi-chapter.  M-rated for safety.


**Leg Porn****.**

_A charity ball, a gap in the penthouse suite curtains and a photographer in the 'right place' at the 'right time' brings Pepper and Tony's romantic relationship into the public eye_. Multi-chapter.

oOo

I am an amateur author of false name,

I borrow worlds of another's fame.

I stake no claim on recognised locations,

Neither do I own canon situations.

I merely come here to spend a while,

Reading other's work; writing my own style.

I earn no money, no wage, no dosh.

I gain no finance, no revenue, no cash.

I do not mean to step on legal toes,

I mean no infringement, I'm friend not foe.

So please, do come in, relax, unwind.

I hope in my work, enjoyment you will find.

oOo

M-rated (for safety) Begins in Tony's voice - I hope he's in character. Personally, I think Tony will be a bit scatty when he's thinking. At least one more chapter to follow, possibly two.

oOo

**TONY'S POV**

I'm not really one for paying attention to ladies' fashion; however, I've learnt a few key points over my many years of _removing_ clothing from fashionable women.

Two _favourite_ key points I've picked up on in particular are: (1) wear matching lingerie, or don't wear any. Though, I'm not sure which I prefer; I have to admit to have enjoyed finding both beneath an outfit. And (2) breasts look their best in a top that's the right size, not shoe-horned into something that's a size too small. Sorry, but it just isn't attractive if it looks like a woman's breasts are half-squashed, half-escaping from whatever they're wearing.

Alright, so _perhaps_ I have a one-track mind when it comes to ladies' fashion.

I'm a tactile person when it comes to removing clothing from a woman. I enjoy the feel of silken fabric slipping through my fingers as I let it slide from a warm body to the floor. I delight in the contrast of textures of running my hand up a stocking-d thigh; I like to notice the change between fabric, lace and soft, warm skin. I love touching through underwear and then re-investigating the same skin once the garments are removed…

However, one thing I am certain I _haven't_ touched in a _very_ long time is velvet.

Black Velvet - to be precise.

Perhaps it is one of those fashion rules that I've not picked up on? Perhaps it is a faux-pas to wear velvet? I've seen some of the more _mature_ women wear it (never, _ever_ call a woman old) - but the ladies of the age group that once caught my eye _never_ wear it.

Until this charity ball - until _Pepper_ wore a Black Velvet dress that makes Audrey Hepburn look class-less. Its halter, fastening behind her neck, and dipping into a tasteful V at the front. The back is low, but not as low as _The Blue Dress_. Its kinda… slinky (and I don't mean the springy thing that walks down stairs); but its burlesque in the way that it gives heart-stopping _hints_ at her figure, rather than clinging to it like a limpet. There's a slit at the back that's about a foot-and-a-half long, giving little tiny glimpses of a pair of black hose that have a _seam_ up the back; and a pair of killer black heels.

I can hear the whispers from other women as we enter the room - 'Oh my God, that's so 80s', and 'She should sooo fire her stylist' were a few that caught my ears.

And I _really_ don't give a rats ass about what anyone is saying right now. I've got my right hand _politely_ at the small of her back, my middle, second to last and pinky fingers are gently stroking the fabric the wrong way and then smoothing it back the right way; while my index finger and thumb are carefully placed on the smoothest, softest skin they've _ever_ been blessed enough to touch.

"Tony, pay attention!" she hissed quietly, "And _stop_ that! You're tickling! Behave! Nobody here _knows_. Let go."

"Sorry, can't help it." I whisper back, barely catching a whine before it left my lips. Pepper didn't want to be the flavour of the month for every tabloid and glossy magazine out there; so she decided we'd keep things nice and quiet. For now. Until we've established ourselves (or some other such shit that completely goes over my head). We've been a couple for three months now, I think if the shit was going to hit the fan with us and the paparazzi, it would have already.

Though, if any photographer here tonight has done their research, they'd know that the little gold and diamond pendant Pepper's wearing was the _first_ piece of jewellery my Dad bought my Mom. She used to wear it all the time; and there must be so many photos in their archives of this little piece of jewellery. I made sure it was the first thing I gave Pepper. I figured a bit of parental inspiration might be needed to get the ball rolling on our relationship - and I honestly couldn't think of anything else that would prove just how serious I am about this. Us. Us together in a relationship.

Me? Well, _I_ want to shout that we're _together _at the top of my lungs and tell the _world_! And then I'll really put some upgrades on the suit and I'll go tell the _astronauts_ on the space station too… But, I'm not _that_ much of an ass, and what Pepper wants, Pepper gets. She never asks for _anything_… Well, that's a lie; because she usually ends up pretty much _demanding_ that I give her full custody of the bedcovers during the night when she's somewhere between asleep and awake…

"Tony!" she practically growls at me, and that tone of voice combined with the Black Velvet Dress and _that_ wiggle of her hips _really_ isn't helping the fit of my slacks right now.

"Yes, Miss Potts?" I say, pouring on the charm.

"Get your head out of whichever gutter its in at the moment and back on the here an now!" she whispers, moving away and breaking the contact my right hand had with the combination of velvet and warm back.

"The gutter was more interesting." I reply smoothly, smirking, fighting back a sulking pout at the loss of contact.

"Yeah, but there are people who want to talk to you, and you're currently orbiting another planet! You're the _patron_ of this charity, you do remember that, don't you?" She says, _simultaneously_ telling me off _and_ swiping two champagne flutes from a passing waiter's tray without even looking at what she was doing! Multi-tasking is scary, sometimes.

"Pepper, I remember. Honest, but it's _your_ fault I'm distracted, you know that?" I reply, taking a _tiny sip_ and noticing that the fizz isn't a particularly good quality one. Though, maybe I should be glad that money is going to the people who really _need_ it, rather than being spent on the little bit of free booze? Ooh look, a nice and convenient potted plant…

"Me! _My_ fault?" she said slowly, obviously wondering where I'd got that explanation from, taking the glass from my hand and discretely placing it down somewhere with her own. She's not had more than a mouthful either.

"Yes! You! The dress, that way that you walk, the confidence you've got… the…"

"Tony, shush! We're keeping things _quiet_, remember that?" she whispers, effortlessly ending the conversation and turning us both around to talk to _someone else_ that I can't remember the name of who's important.

Someone who _isn't_ Pepper wearing a Black Velvet Dress that highlights her figure discretely and showcases that walk she has that would make any runway-model green with envy…

… Oh, its going to be a long evening. Pretending that Pepper's still _just_ my employee.

"Mr. Stark! And your _PA_." simpered some woman in a too-short, too-low-cut dress that broke that second rule I picked up - that bodice-top-bit is _far_ too tight for her. She looks like she has four boobs, they're so squashed. She's glaring at Pepper as if she could make her turn into a frog on the spot, then turning and making goo-goo eyes at me. I'm certain that she's been a notch on my bedpost once upon a time.

Was I really _that_ tasteless? Or, should thanks have been given to alcohol, for making the trashy look wonderful?

"Miss Potts is my _boss_, actually… She's the CEO of the company and I'm just the geek in the workshop, who's name just _happens_ to be on the side of the building. Excuse us, but I believe the Treasurer wants to see us." I did a little internal happy dance at the furious look on the too-tight-too-low woman's face as we calmly walked away.

"Bambi Winters, underwear model." Pepper whispered walking over to (someone who I think was) the charity's treasurer.

"Whatever." I said with a shrug, not caring. Though, for an underwear model, you think she'd know how to dress. That outfit looks nasty. Though, the immeasurable class of Pepper puts everyone to shame here tonight. I might be a _little bit_ biased in my opinion.

"You know, Miss CEO, I've just had a thought… it would be _so_ much better if it _was_ your name on the side of the building…"

"I don't think 'Potts Industries', or even worse 'Pepper Industries' has the same ring to it; and I don't think either logo would look as good." she said dryly, humouring me a bit.

"Who said anything about changing the logo?" I quipped, noticing that the Treasurer (I was right! It is him! Ha!) had gathered someone else to bring over to us - the charity chairman? Maybe? My new PA - not as good as Pepper, but still amazing at his job, yes HIS job - did actually give me a file with their photos in with their names and what they do written next to it. I didn't actually read _all_ of it. Perhaps I should have…

"So, you want to rename the company to 'Potts Industries', but leave the Stark logo on the building? Tony, has your champagne been spiked? You're not making any sense." she said, smiling gently, and changing the subject, as the two older men shake our hands and thank us _both_ for our generous donations.

She gave them a cheque for _how much _of her new CEO salary? Was that a hint that she thinks I'm paying her too much? Tough shit, Pepper, its what you deserve for the sheer amount of work you put in. I'm _so_ glad my cheque had another nought on the end before the decimal point - or I'd have looked bad.

After the Treasurer and Head of Family Counselling (okay, so _not_ the Chairman) meandered off to someone else, I leaned in and whispered into Pepper's ear. "Pepper, back to what I was saying earlier… who said anything about changing the name of the _company_?" I said, leaving her to think that through for a moment as I wandered off to the bar.

I turn back to see her shaking her head at me and rolling her eyes, those lovely strawberry-blonde tresses moving gently. Hmm, maybe it isn't _strawberry-blonde_, because she's allergic to strawberries… watermelon-redish-blonde? Does that work? Its still _fruit_, does that count for anything?

She didn't take that comment remotely seriously. Shame, _I_ think Virginia _Stark_ sounds damned good. Pepper Stark sounds just as good… Mrs. Stark sounds plain _weird_ though, the last time I heard that, someone was talking to my Mom… Though, I think I could get used to it.

Okay, One Vodka Martini, extra dry, extra olives for the Lady. And for me, one… O.J. Yeah, gotta love the possibility of having to fly off as Iron Man at a moments notice, _can't_ be drinking and flying. Oh well, Vitamin C and an _almost_ constant reprieve for my liver, and all that. A nice big tip in the jar, and off we go back to Pepper, and the three _whoever-s_ she wants me to have a mindless conversation with now.

I should have read that file. But working on the latest design for the arc reactor at SI seemed _so_ much more important this afternoon.

Pepper beams at me when I return with the drinks, taking a sip and updating me on the conversation. Now, was that smile because (a) I actually came back this time? (b) because I remembered what she likes to drink? (c) because I got her a drink without being asked to go get it? or (d) the fact that I'm _voluntarily_ drinking the OH-group-free stuff?

But… she's smiling at me like _that_, who cares _why_?

Aaaaaaand, JACKPOT. I've just managed to spot where the zipper is on the Black Velvet Dress. Its under her left armpit, barely visible. But I've got eyes like a hawk for that sort of thing. Admittedly it has taken me over half-an-hour to find it… I think she does it to torment me, finding the most _obscure_ way to fasten clothes…

Oh well, I guess zippers, buttons and God-knows-what else on Pepper's dresses are like _Rubik's Cubes_: tricky at first, but once you know how you can manage it in less than twenty seconds.

Are we done here? Can we _go _back to the hotel yet?


End file.
